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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27025516">I'll See You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cajunquandary/pseuds/cajunquandary'>cajunquandary</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:48:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,013</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27025516</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cajunquandary/pseuds/cajunquandary</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and the reader are old flames. After so many years apart, will they be able to rekindle what they once had, or will it be too late?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dean Winchester &amp; You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I'll See You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was the most challenging one I’ve written to date and I’m not quite sure why. Here is about the 25th version I created. It took three months and at least two other writers to help figure out a decent flow. Thank you @impala-dreamer and @wheresthekillswitch! I couldn’t have done it without y’all. It’s being published for @atc74’s 1K Celebration, otherwise this story wouldn’t have made it past my word documents file. My prompt was “Colder Weather” by the Zac Brown Band. Thank you, Angelina, for hosting this challenge! Congrats on the milestone :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Twelve Years Ago~</p><p>The small photo, already wearing at the edges, rested in your hands as you sat on your tailgate waiting for Dean. Hopefully tonight he would be here—just after every full moon as promised. You didn’t have a phone as there were no lines or service in the backwoods east Texas town, so this was the only way you’d ever see each other unless a hunt took you to a city. Mostly though, you preferred the country. The isolation brought peace and comfort. You traced the outline of his face next to yours, smiling and shaking the hair out of your face from the wind. Gently, you lifted and smoothed a corner that had dog-eared. It was so cold tonight you couldn’t feel your fingers, toes, or really any extremity at all, but the whiskey in your chest stilled your shivers for the most part. Your thoughts were interrupted by a rumble in the distance. You grinned wide, butterflies swimming through the artificial warmth and making you light headed, the Impala slowly making its way up the long drive to your humble abode. In the waning moonlight, you could see a flash of teeth in a sideways smile as Dean pulled to a stop in front of you.</p><p>Okay, maybe sitting on a tailgate in the cold for so long wasn’t such a good idea… you were frozen in place. Dean gently shut the door and slid over the hood of the Impala so smoothly that there was no way he hadn’t practiced that. He unzipped his dad’s leather jacket, opening it like angelic wings to envelope you in his radiating heat. You crashed into his chest, breathing in deep but disappointed that your nose was too cold for his scent to stick in your nostrils. He kissed the top of your head, breathing hard and warming your scalp as he rubbed circles on your back. After a moment and without a word, he scooped you up and carried you inside, your legs still wrapped around his waist and face buried in his neck. It wouldn’t be long until you were both very warm and very sated, curled up under the blankets in your bed.</p><p>You laid face to face, legs still tangled and shaking lightly as you traced the constellations in his freckles. In just a few minutes, you were all caught up on the events of the last month. Dean started to talk about how he had to leave in the morning since he already had another case until you interrupted.</p><p>“Dean, why don’t I come with you? Or call another hunter to take care of it? We haven’t had more than a night or two here and there for sixth months.”</p><p>“You know I can’t put another hunter in harm’s way, especially with a case like this one. We hardly have any information on the damn thing—it could be anything.”</p><p>“Take me with you, I can help.”</p><p>“You know I would, but you would only be in danger. People that get too close to me die. You know this.” Dean pulled back, brows furrowed.</p><p>You pulled back your hand and gripped the sheet tighter around you. “I can take care of myself Winchester. I’ve been hunting alone for years.” You paused for a moment, looking down and away and wriggling out from under him. Your eyes snapped back up and met his. It wasn’t fair how beautiful he looked right now, in fact, it made the ache in your chest worse. “Am I just another girl to you?”</p><p>“No! Of course not! I promise, soon it will be safer to have you near, and the moment that happens I’ll come for you.” He reached towards you and propped up on his elbow. You flinched away, gracelessly tumbling out of the bed and towards the pile of your clothes on the floor, hurriedly getting dressed.</p><p>“No Dean, it’s always going to be something. That’s what this life is. But we do it together!” You turned on him, tossing your hair up into a messy bun and buttoning your shirt. Well, Dean’s shirt. Dean slipped into his jeans and old band t-shirt, saving the jacket for last and forgetting the flannel on your shoulders.</p><p>“What do you want me to do, huh? You shouldn’t be hunting! You got your revenge, you can stop! You have a home,” Dean gestured angrily around the room, “you have a chance at a life, a family! No hunter ever gets that.”</p><p>You stepped towards him, voice barely above a whisper. “We could be a family. A family of hunters. You know I can’t have children, so it works out. At least then we wouldn’t be alone.”</p><p>“It doesn’t matter what you say, alright? You’re safer here. Away from me.” Dean stormed out of the room, knowing that if he stuck around any longer that he may crack. You were one of his weak spots—the biggest, other than Sam. The best thing to do was leave again before he could hurt you even more. He swung open the front door, a blast of cold filling the small space and making you shiver as you chased after him.</p><p>She’d trade Colorado if he’d take her with him</p><p>Closes the door before the winter lets the cold in,</p><p>And wonders if her love is strong enough to make him stay,</p><p>She’s answered by the tail lights shining through the window pane</p><p>“Dean, if you walk out that door, don’t you ever come back.”</p><p>Dean paused, tears already down his face. Funny how familiar that line was to him by now. He turned his ear slightly, fighting himself. “I’ll see you.” He let out a heavy sigh, turned back forward and all but ran to the comforting shelter of the Impala. You slammed the door and set your back roughly against it, hands out to steady yourself. You wanted to take it back—all of it, and just be content to see him once in a while. Anything was better than nothing. Why were you both so stubborn? You looked up, readying yourself to run out and stop him, but it was too late, the red of the taillights filtering in through the adjacent window and fading as the Impala peeled away.</p><p>He said I wanna see you again, but I’m stuck in colder weather</p><p>Maybe tomorrow will be better, can I call you then?</p><p>She said you’re ramblin’ man, you ain’t ever gonna change</p><p>You got a gypsy soul to blame, and you were born for leavin’.</p><p>Seventeen Years Ago~</p><p>Icy wind whipped harshly over the bare terrain, threatening to carry the flames across the clearing. How dare the sun shine so brightly on a day like this? Not a cloud in the sky, the valley only shadowed by a large hill to the East. You did your best to stand tall, watching the pyres and trying to push every thought out of your mind. Instead, your memories raced by—your sister singing and dancing under the same sun only days ago, a sun that seemed softer then, more forgiving. You looked up into it, letting it burn until all you could see were white blocks and black shadows.</p><p>Even still, your brother raced around the yard on his little dirt bike, acting like the hotshot you’d never tell him he was. The one he now would never be. Your mother and father were arguing in the kitchen over something silly, but ended it with a kiss and dishwater fight. This was so fresh in your eyes not even the brutal winter sun could sear it away. How had this happened? You’d only been gone a few hours, but when you came back, they’d all been slaughtered, the monster long gone. Your father had raised you as a hunter, and you called the first number in his contacts for help, wasting no time to allow the gory scene before you to set in. Those mangled bodies were NOT your family. No, the people they were, were gone.</p><p>Feeling like an intruder in your own home, you’d slept by the road at the end of the long driveway, gun clutched in your hands ‘til your knuckles were white. It was two days before Sam and Dean had arrived, and it was obvious you hadn’t moved in that time. Your eyes had been fixed, joints stiff, face pale and eyes sunken from dehydration.</p><p>The boys had found and disposed of the vampire that’d done it within 24 hours, and by the third morning, here you were, clinging to strength in the unforgiving winter gusts and Texas sun. You didn’t realize you were falling until Dean caught you in his arms, pulling you in and wrapping you within the flannel and leather like you’d done to your father as a child, fists clenched tightly to his undershirt. Your clamped your eyes together, wanting to never open them again, face buried against his chest. You were vaguely aware that you were in a heap with him on the ground as the hunter wrapped around you completely, but all you could focus on was the sound.</p><p>A crackling fire would never be soothing again. You flinched every time the immense heat fractured a bone, sick rising in your chest and threatening to spill. Dean pressed his lips into your hair, laying a gentle kiss with every jerk, keeping his own face buried in your neck just holding you for hours—long after the ashes grew cold. He’d helped you get a small house on the edge of town, moved a few things from your old one so you’d never have to face the scene again. The boys made sure everything was covered up and taken care of before finally leaving town.</p><p>At a truck stop diner just outside of Lincoln,</p><p>The night is black as the coffee he was drinkin’,</p><p>And in the waitress’ eyes he sees the same ol’ light a-shinin’,</p><p>He thinks of Colorado and the girl he left behind him</p><p>A Few Years Ago~</p><p>Dean graciously accepted the second helping of homemade pecan pie from the cute waitress, already full but unable to pass up on the buy one get one for such delicious pastries. The burger had been great—tasted just like every other diner he’d ever been to. He liked that consistency, it was dependable even when nothing else was, not even his own brother. He took a swig of beer to rinse down the sugary bit stuck in his throat, swirling the slightly bitter liquid over his tongue. The waitress dropped his check, patiently wiping the bar around him, as he was the last customer of the night. Dean dropped a twenty and motioned for her to keep the change. He watched her closely, deciding on whether it would be safe to ask her if he was allowed to charm her into a fun night or not. She met his eyes, but all Dean could see was you behind them, even all these years later. All the relationships and one night stands he’d had in these years, still for most of them he had to imagine they were you. He went round and round with himself—you were safe. This was right. But maybe you weren’t? It’d been years. And so it went, each romp leaving him emptier than the last.</p><p>As the waitress gathered her clothes from the floor of his motel room, he drew from the whiskey bottle, savoring the burn as he decided he would go visit.</p><p>He said I wanna see you again</p><p>But I’m stuck in colder weather</p><p>Maybe tomorrow will be better</p><p>Can I call you then?</p><p>Meanwhile, you’d moved several times. Within a week of Dean leaving you on your doorstep, you’d sold your home to a retired couple, leaving with them a letter should Dean return. Your El Camino became home and you set off, destination anywhere. For years you bounced from place to place, hunting here and there, but mostly going through your days gazing out over the foreign landscapes, mind lost with the wind as you fingered the worn picture in your pocket—the one of you and Dean that you could never look at.</p><p>Eventually though, as with all hunters, you grew weary of life on the road and found a little place, no more than a shed really, where rent was cheap and the owners left you to your own devices. Leading a life of such solitude, though, wore you down and you became careless on hunts.</p><p>She said you’re ramblin’ man</p><p>You ain’t ever gonna change</p><p>You got a gypsy soul to blame</p><p>And you were born for leavin’ (born for leavin’)</p><p>If you had it your way, the Winchesters and their father would never find you again. And yet, any sign that you were missed at all could’ve changed everything. Maybe you wouldn’t be so careless, fearless. It would’ve saved you a few broken bones and monster bites. Quite possibly, it may have saved a few civilians. No—you stopped yourself. The civilians’ lives were on you. No way around that. You knew. A broken heart was no excuse.</p><p>Well, it’s a winding road</p><p>When you’re in the lost and found</p><p>You’re a lover – I’m a runner</p><p>And we go ‘round 'n 'round</p><p>And I love you but I leave you</p><p>I don’t want you but I need you</p><p>You know it’s you who calls me back here, baby</p><p>Present Day~</p><p>The letter drifted from Dean’s loose fingertips, his other hand having already found his cell phone and speed-dialing Castiel. “I’ll see you someday, maybe” lingered in his vision, burned in your handwriting into his memory.</p><p>“Go get her, son,” The old man in his bathrobe leaned on the doorway, his grey-haired wife clutching his arm and nodding in agreement, sad smiles on both their faces.</p><p>Dean picked up the paper from the porch, sprinting back to the Impala as Cas finally answered. “Cas!” He all but shouted into the phone. “She’s not here! You’ve got to find her, please.” Cas agreed, already sounding over angel radio after hearing the raw desperation in Dean’s voice.</p><p>The angel knew just how much courage it took Dean to go to Texas to look for you in the first place, how much the hunter had battled with himself and promised to do. Dean didn’t break promises and Cas wanted to make sure he didn’t start now.</p><p>Oh I wanna see you again</p><p>But I’m stuck in colder weather</p><p>Maybe tomorrow will be better</p><p>Can I call you then?</p><p>Cause I’m a ramblin’ man</p><p>I ain’t ever gonna change (I ain’t ever gonna change)</p><p>I got a gypsy soul to blame</p><p>And I was born for leavin’ (born for leavin’)</p><p>You stalked back up to your front door, shotgun cradled in the crook of your arm as you fiddled with the keys, accidently dropping them in the white rosebush you’d planted by the door to remind you of home and the family waiting for you on the other side. As you stooped to retrieve them with a muttered shit, a boot caught your attention from the edge of your vision and you froze. The demon you’d exorcised hadn’t been alone, and you’d never even checked to make sure.</p><p>“Well, well. Looks like I get to have a little fun tonight after all.” The demon-possessed mailman sneered at you. Lightning struck in the distance, increasing in frequency. An electric storm. Hopefully another hunter would see it and finish what you couldn’t. You used the moment of distraction to face it, aiming and shooting the salt rounds, managing only to piss it off more. He threw you against the wood siding. “Oh the things I’m going to do to you…” You closed your eyes tightly, preparing for the sure torture to come. Before you realized it, you were calling out for Dean, to which the demon took even greater pleasure, surprised and happy to have something of the Winchesters’.</p><p>When I close my eyes I see you</p><p>No matter where I am</p><p>I can smell your perfume through these whispering pines</p><p>I’m with your ghost again</p><p>It’s a shame about the weather</p><p>But I know soon we’ll be together</p><p>And I can’t wait 'til then</p><p>I can’t wait 'til then</p><p>Dean knelt among the still-smoking rubble, the mangled and charred remains of your body covered by a sheet. Castiel had led him here, without saying a word of your condition, instead staring out the window in painful silence. That’s what confirmed to Dean that you’d died.</p><p>He’d had no idea the angels only missed you by a few minutes. At least the demon was dead. Those dickbags never even put out the fire that reduced your house to embers with your broken body inside. Caught in the surviving rosebush was the worn photo you’d carried with you for so long. Dean held it in trembling hands, turning and twisting it, unable to fathom that you’d waited so long for him. He paused, bringing the thin paper closer to his face, squinting and wiping away the tears with flannelled shoulder. Written on the back, barely legible, was something akin to the note you’d left.</p><p>“I’ll see you on the other side, maybe.”</p><p>Dean collapsed in on himself. How different things could’ve turned out if only he’d loaded you in the Impala that night twelve years ago! It was too much to linger on the implications. He could have saved you. The whole reason he’d left was to keep this from happening. It never mattered after all—and he should have been there. Dean would carry this knowledge to the grave. This life weighed on people, especially the Winchesters, as they were always in the center of it. His eyes dried at the thought. Maybe, just maybe, Cas could help him see you in Heaven. If not, Dean knew that his time was borrowed and he’d join you himself.</p><p>And out of exhaustion, he counted the days.</p>
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